For some reason, during what turned out to be his final few days before apparently succumbing to heart failure early yesterday morning, I had been thinking about Richard Edmonds. In particular, I remembered him telling me more than once how much he loved my songs. “They’re the most entertaining thing I’ve ever heard,” he said. He was bashful, yet sincere.
Despite having been coerced, later on, into denouncing me as “a traitor and a saboteur”, there is no doubt that Richard did do all he could to try and persuade his nationalist BFFs* to change their opinion of me.
Prior to turning, Richard came to support me at most of my court hearings. On the day I was sentenced in June 2018, he “advised” (was given orders to instruct) that I should forget nationalist politics and historical revisionism and “go back to supporting the Palestinians”.
On the national level, one can perhaps more easily understand why nationalist politics consistently fails to gain ground and, more broadly, why historical revisionism remains a tiny fringe movement. (This is once again illustrated in the obituary published yesterday in “Heritage and Destiny”, likely prepared in advance, with the obligatory photo-op and mention of ex-model, Michele Renouf.)
Nonetheless, upon hearing yesterday’s news, I was genuinely saddened, and started crying (for the first time since I don’t remember when, – and not because I retain much empathy for Edmonds the man, not after what happened; surely, it would come as no surprise if H&D – soon to be renamed “The Lidy’s Voice”? — prodded another of their biddable lackeys to put the blame on me, as they did when Robert Faurisson died).
After being stabbed in the back, and indeed in the heart, by a compatriot and fellow truth-seeker – by a man who I considered to be a friend – why then do I bother to write down and publish these thoughts? As noted in my reminiscences above, Richard loved my songs. They were, for him, “the best entertainment”. I think he still believed the same, right until the very end, hence the “communications” received shortly before he passed away.
He did not seem to hold any personal grudge against me for gently mocking his foolishness in two later numbers. Sometime last week, I suspect, he would have been sent a copy of “Anything Goes!” by a mutual acquaintance who shares Richard’s appreciation of my art. If so, then I am happy to have provided some entertaining comfort during his final days.
RIP Richard Edmonds, 1943-2020.
*BFF = Best Friends Forever